


Memories

by blackdragonhellfire



Series: Dark Side of the Moon [1]
Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men (Original Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Gen, Judicious use of the word "bub", Magneto is a douche sometimes, Pietro Maximoff Goes by Peter, Post-X-Men (2000), dadneto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:14:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24542917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackdragonhellfire/pseuds/blackdragonhellfire
Summary: How did Logan know of Peter Maximoff's existence in Days of Future Past?
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr & Pietro Maximoff, Logan & Pietro Maximoff
Series: Dark Side of the Moon [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952221
Comments: 9
Kudos: 289





	Memories

Logan first met Peter Maximoff in a bar. 

He had just downed another beer when he heard some noise coming from the pool table. Noise which he honestly would rather not have heard right now, even though he himself loved a good fight. Fights were fun. They always distracted him from the pain, the pain of not knowing who he was, or where he was going. The pain of his bones breaking through his skin, over and over. 

Then he heard the sound of a pool cue breaking over someone’s head, and got curious. 

Two men stood over someone, bloody pool cues in hand, smirking. 

“You gonna pay us now, Maximoff?” one said, “Or are you going to run away, as usual?”

The silver-haired man on the ground just smirked, blood on his lips. Twitching, like he was just waiting to attack them. 

“Poor baby,” the man taunted, “Always running back to his mommy.”

The silver-haired man stood in a fluid move, and hurled a punch towards the man’s face. His fist hit the man square in the face, denting his cheek from the force and sending him to the floor. 

He wiped the blood off his lip.

“Who’s running to mama now, huh?” he said, trying to fling the blood off of his hand and onto the floor. 

The other man lunged at him, only to be flung into the pool table in a similar fashion. 

The silver-haired man wiped his hands off on his pants, having given up on flinging it.

“It’s not your fault you’re stupid enough to expect me to pay you idiots back, you know,” he teased. “Because I’m not going to. And there’s no way you can catch me, anyway.”

Logan went back to his beer. He didn’t care. 

The silver-haired man walked up to him, and waved to the bartender. 

“Hey, barkeep! Whiskey on the rocks?”

He settled down onto the stool next to him, silver sneakers swinging back and forth underneath the table. 

Logan growled at him. 

The man just looked at him, and smiled. 

The bartender handed him his whiskey, and he took a long sip. 

“Ah,” he said, “That hits the spot.”

He nodded at Logan. 

“So, what brings a big, buff man like you over here to the boonies?”

Logan grunted in response. 

The silver-haired man just nodded again. 

“Cool. The drinks here are pretty good. I like the whiskey myself. What about you?”

Logan just gave him a look, long and hard. 

“Why are you talking to me?”

The silver-haired man shrugged. 

“Dunno. You just seem interesting, I guess. And I like talking to people.”

Logan grunted again. 

“I guess you don’t, right?” the silver haired man continued, tapping the table absentmindedly. 

Logan just looked away from him, and took another swig of his beer. 

“Well, that’s as good a response as any.”

Logan gave him an incredulous glance. 

“What? I’m bored, and you’re here.”

Logan sighed. 

“Shut up,” he grunted out. 

The silver-haired man raised his eyebrows, before giving a chuckle. 

“That’s more than I thought you’d say, honestly.”

Logan grunted again. 

“You seem like a lot of fun at parties,” the man continued. 

“Not really.”

The silver-haired man chuckled again. 

“I mean, you seem like the type who’d end up punching someone.”

“Probably.”

“Definitely. You look this close to punching me.”

Logan smirked. 

“Do you want me to punch you?”

“Nah, not really. Do you want to punch me?”

“Seems like it.”

The silver-haired man just smirked. 

“I’m Peter, in case you were wondering.”

Logan nodded. 

“Peter” raised another curious eyebrow. 

“No name, huh?”

Logan just gave him a look telling him to drop it.

Peter just kept smirking. 

“Cool!”

He stood up. 

“Well, it was nice to meet you. See you around!”

Logan just stared into space, and got out a cigar. He needed it, after this annoying-ass punk mouthed off at him, and he didn’t even get to punch him.

He lit it up, and took a puff. 

A shame. 

* * *

“Hey, it’s you again!”

Logan turned around in his barstool.

The silver-haired man, whatever the hell his name was, stood behind him, a cheery smile on his face.

Logan just turned back around, prepared to ignore him. 

The man just sat on the stool next to him, and kept chatting. 

“What are you doing all the way up in New York? Last time we met it was all the way in Kansas!”

Logan grunted. He didn’t want to talk with this guy any more than he did last time they talked. And it wasn’t like they were friends, anyway. They had only met once. 

The silver-haired man made a thoughtful face.

“I guess you still hate conversation, huh?”

Logan nodded. 

The silver-haired man gestured to the bartender, and ordered something. Logan didn’t care. He just wanted to be left alone, after all that business preventing the end of the world and all that. 

He had always hated New York City. And now, he hated metal-benders even more. 

Fucking Magneto. What a douche. 

“So…” the man said, “You live here?”

Logan nodded. “You?”

“Oh, I’m just visiting. A friend of my dad’s lives up here in Westchester, you know.”

Logan didn’t. 

“Well, they’re not really friends. Sort of enemies, at this point, but whatever. My dad is just good at driving people crazy.”

Logan just ignored him. 

“And, like, I mean, it’s sort of hard to go to my usual people and talk about how much of a prick he is, so here I am, drinking. Or, at least, trying. I don’t really get drunk. Sort of sucks.”

Logan lit his cigar, ignoring everything that was said to him. 

“You’re not listening, are you?”

“Nope,” Logan responded. 

The man sighed. 

“Well, at least I tried.”

He downed the rest of his drink. 

“Nice talk. I hope you’re liking it up here. I always thought it was a bit too cold.”

Logan just grunted. 

The man turned and walked away. 

* * *

They were surrounded.

Honestly, they weren’t expecting the Brotherhood to show up at that particular time. But there they were, interrupting the X-Men’s op. As usual. But it wasn’t like the X-Men usually guarded some senator’s papers against theft. They usually did the bloody stuff. 

What was the point of breaking into some senator’s office, anyway? This guy was supposed to be an ally. Were they trying to steal his paperwork or something?

Motherfuckers. 

“Wolverine!” a voice called. 

Logan turned around, growling.

Cyclops jerked his head. 

“There’s a couple of stragglers down the hallway. Can you do back up?”

Logan smirked.

“You bet, dickface. Just you wait.”

Wolverine snarled, and ran down the hallway, claws out. 

Only to be stopped in his tracks.

He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. An unknown force held him still, immobile. 

His arms moved above his head, in a gesture of surrender. And Logan would never, ever surrender to these assfucks. Ever. 

But, Magneto stood in front of him, arm outstretched, that stupid helmet on his stupid face.

“Well, well, well,” he said, “We meet again, Wolverine.”

Logan grunted.

“If you would kindly just let us do our jobs, now, that would be nice. This senator won’t take himself down, after all.”

Logan choked out a couple of choice words. 

“Oh? Did I hear that correctly?”

Logan dropped to the floor, winded. 

“Yeah you did, bub.”

“Bub?”

Magneto smiled, teeth showing, like a shark. 

“I’m not your _bub_ , boy.”

“I don’t care.”

Magneto raised his hand, and Logan’s body followed, rising up into the air. 

“Now, then. Back to business-”

“Whoa,” another voice interrupted, “What’s going on here?”

Flyaway silver hair greeted him from behind Magneto. 

The man walked towards him, hands making a non-threatening gesture, and Logan recognized him instantly, despite the goggles.

“You’re that annoying guy from the bar,” he said flatly. 

“Yup! That’s me. Quicksilver! Nice to meet you.”

“Pietro,” Magneto said, looking at the other man sternly, “Enough. Don’t fraternize with the enemy.”

“Enemy?” Quicksilver said. “Pft. He’s not our enemy. I bet that if we told him what we were here for, he’d tell the X-Men and they’d solve it for us. Boom. Less work.”

“It doesn’t matter how much work there is, Pietro. It is our duty-”

“Yeah, well, the X-Men do the same thing as we do. Just a bit more nicely. Now, can you let him go, please? I’m just gonna explain what’s going on here and then we can go.”

Magneto just gave him a look. 

“What? It’s a good plan. He’s less likely to be a martyr if he’s ousted legally, ya know.”

Magneto lowered his hand, and Logan slumped towards the floor. 

“Fine. It’s your call. But, if this backfires…”

Quicksilver waved his hand dismissively.

“Yeah, yeah, old man. Whatever.”

“This isn’t a _whatever_ situation, Pietro.”

Magneto, surprisingly, turned and walked off.

Quicksilver turned back towards him, awkwardly.

Logan just glared at him from his spot on the floor. 

“So,” Quicksilver started, jovially, “What do you want to know?”

Logan heaved himself into a crouch, ready to pounce on the man in front of him if he double crossed him. 

“Why?” he asked. 

“Why?” Quicksilver repeated, “Well, you seem like a nice enough guy. I’d hate for you to have to deal with… him.”

Logan grunted. 

“Sorry about that, by the way. Magneto can be pretty…”

He grimaced. 

“Well, anyway… what do you want to know?”

Logan grunted again. 

“Why are you here?”

“Well, turns out that it’s not a good idea to support a senator when he has a Child Porn stash, no matter how pro-mutant he seems to be.”

“Child Porn?”

“Yeah. Tons of the stuff. Just checked his office.”

Logan stood, and towered over the other man. 

“You stay out of our business,” he said. “Clear?”

Quicksilver smirked. 

“Got it. You gonna arrest me now?”

Logan growled at him. 

“You bet your ass I am, bub.”

Quicksilver just kept smirking, and held his hands out.

“Go ahead. It’s not like you can catch me.”

He winked.

And then he disappeared. 

“It was nice seeing you again!” he heard from behind him. 

Logan whipped around. 

Quicksilver waved jauntily, but before Logan could catch up, he had run off, leaving nothing but dust and wind in his wake. 

* * *

Logan liked his time alone, away from the Mansion’s bustling hallways, and Scott’s annoying comments. And Chuck’s old man comments and black tea. Even Jean, lovely lady that she was. Watching her make out with Cyclops always sucked. Even if he only really flirted with her to get a rise out of her boy toy. 

It was nice having a place, but it was even better to be able to be alone sometimes, with nothing but a beer and a cig in hand. 

Until he got interrupted. 

“You again,” Logan growled, prepared for a fight. 

Quicksilver raised his arms. 

“Whoa man, calm down. I’m not going to fight you.”

Logan kept growling at him. 

“I’m really not. I’m just here for a drink.”

Quicksilver sat down, and tapped his fingers on the table a bit, impatiently. 

“Should I get a whiskey this time? I’m getting a bit sick of whiskey.”

Logan shrugged. 

“Well, that’s an answer, at least. Hey! Barkeep!”

The Bartender came over. 

“I’d like a Martini without the olive juice, please.”

The Bartender went to work. 

Quicksilver just stared at Logan, and fiddled a bit with his windbreaker.

“So, what’s up?”

Logan just grunted. 

“That seems to be your usual answer.”

Logan scoffed. 

“Do you ever shut up?”

“Not really, no. I mean, like I’m almost 45. And my dad is always like 'Peter, grow up. You’re too old for this.'”

“I thought your name was Pietro.”

“Only to my family.”

Logan took a swig of his beer. 

“So you’re related to Magneto?”

Quicksilver smirked. 

“Oh, yeah. He’s my dad.”

Logan nearly spat out his drink.

“I’m not kidding. He used to be quite the looker when he was younger. Just ask Xavier. He’d know.”

Logan smirked. 

“I always knew there was something going on there.”

“Yeah, definitely. They’re basically an old married couple.”

Quicksilver sighed. 

“I mean, I’ve been going by Peter ever since I was a little kid, so I’m just sort of used to being called that. Being called Pietro by people I barely know is weird, honestly."

“Huh. Why?”

“My mom wanted a good life for me and my siblings. A good, American life. She didn’t want us to stand out too much to people. I think she was scared we’d get targeted like she was.”

“Targeted?”

“She was in a Concentration Camp.”

“Oh.”

Quicksilver grimaced.

“Yeah.”

He held out his hand.

“My real name’s Peter Maximoff, you know. Nice to meet you.”

He held out his hand. 

“Logan.”

Logan shook it. 

Peter put his hand down. 

“Well then… so, any stories from your end?”

Logan shook his head. 

“Nothing too interesting. You?”

Peter sighed. 

“Well, I mean, it’s never as interesting as it was when I was growing up. Ah, the good old days of stealing Twinkies from the gas station. They just haven’t been the same since that new company bought Hostess, you know?”

Logan took a swig of his drink. 

“I’ve never had a Twinkie.”

Peter looked at him like he’d swallowed a toad. 

“What? Are you kidding me?”

Logan just looked back at him. 

“Why is it important?”

“Because it is. Twinkies were half of my childhood. I mean, what good is living without Twinkies?”

Logan shrugged. 

“I mean, Washington DC is seriously boring unless you steal stuff. Like, seriously boring. It’s where I grew up, you know.”

Logan huffed. 

“Do you ever shut up?”

“Never. It’s part of my charm.”

Logan just rolled his eyes. 

“Roll your eyes all you want, man. Just wait until I get you a Twinkie. It’ll blow your mind.”

“Doubt it.”

“No you don’t. I’m usually right when it comes to Junk Food. Trust me. I’ve got years of experience on this. Years. It’s pretty pathetic, actually.”

“I’d say.”

“Ha. Very funny.”

The Bartender handed Peter his martini, and he downed it in one gulp.

“Ah, that was great. I bet you couldn’t do that with your drink.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. 

“I mean, I know I’d win that contest. My mutation makes it so that I can’t get drunk.”

“That must suck.”

“It really does. Makes me wonder what I’m doing here, anyway.”

Peter hopped off his stool.

“Well, it was pretty great seeing you again. Drinks again on the ninth? You’re paying, though.”

Logan smiled. 

“Sure thing, bub. But you’d better pay.”

Peter smiled. 

“Deal.”

* * *

“So, what do we do?” Younger Charles said, his (very strange) mop of hair glistening in the light, like he hadn’t washed it in days. 

“I don’t know. We’re not going to get Magneto out on our own,” Beast said, wiping his glasses down. 

“Absolutely right, Hank,” Xavier went on. “And how are we supposed to prevent the apocalypse without Erik?”

“Probably just fine,” Logan retorted. 

Xavier gave him a look. 

“What?” Logan said. 

“Nothing. But we need him. I just know it.”

Logan almost rolled his eyes at the professor’s dramatic behavior. 

“Are you sure, Professor?” Beast said, all worried like. “You know, I think we’d be fine…”

“I’m not doing this without him, and that’s final.”

Logan scoffed. 

“Okay. We’ll pick up your boy toy from the pen. Fine.”

Xavier actually had the balls to roll his eyes at him. Well, this weird stoner hippie version, anyway. 

“So, how are we going to get him out?” Beast said, curiously. 

Logan gave it a moment of thought. But, he couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if Peter had gotten to meet his father sooner. Would he have less issues with him? Would Magneto be nicer? If this Seventies Magneto was anything like his future self…

He owed Peter at least that much. Peter had bought most of the drinks when they went out, after all. 

Plus, it wasn’t like he didn’t know where Peter lived. All he’d have to do is go to DC and look up Maximoff in the phonebook. 

“I think I’ve got an idea,” he finally said, “I just have to pick up someone.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please Kudos and Review!


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